


We built this home from rubble and dust

by Jehanproudaisy



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Comfort, Domestic, Fluff, Found Family, Hints of taagnus but it's generally more of a family dynamic you know, Kravitz isn't here, M/M, Minor Angst, My babies are all a lil battle scarred but they've found a home in one another, Nightmares, Nothing against the guy...he just isn't here, So Lup isn't mentioned either, Sorry chaps, Team as Family, Written before ep 60, but it's all happy in the end don't u worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 08:43:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10659009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jehanproudaisy/pseuds/Jehanproudaisy
Summary: The Bureau of balance disbands, after everything, and our worthy heroes are left to seek out a home in one another. They're all a little battle scarred, all a little bruised, but they're going to be a-okay. Magnus reflects on the events leading up to this point.(This is really, really self indulgent and is essentially just an excuse to write about Tres horny boys and Ango McDango as a sweet little family unit.)





	We built this home from rubble and dust

It had only made sense for the Bureau to disband, after everything. The moon base was full of ghosts, now, of hollow corners and whistling courtyards, and those who survived the final fight felt the suffocating loss with every breath. They closed up shop with very little ceremony, an affair which seemed unsubstantial for all they had achieved. But then, Magnus supposed, surely that was more appropriate, in the end, that they disappear as silently as they had appeared – demanding no credit, no rampant appreciation. Merely a pat on the back and a hefty pension, and a lifetime of nightmares to go along with it. They had done their duty, taken on the sacrifice with pride. Dulce et Decorum Est, and all that other horseshit. 

The leaving party had been a small and sombre affair, with those who had survived the final battle gathered around a roaring fire in the middle of the quad. A farewell fire, Taako had claimed, before dousing a pile of splintered old canteen stools with gasoline. No one had protested. Magnus had sat in between Taako and Merle, the three squeezing together tightly on a soft quilt that Taako had dragged from his bed, recounting stories from their earlier travels. These were the ones where the wounds weren’t as fresh, weren’t as real, when all they had to worry about were goblins and bugbears and villainous elves. They didn’t talk much about Wonderland, but then that was nothing new. The sacrifices they had made there were far too severe to be translated into campfire tales, and besides, it wasn’t as though they didn’t re-live them every night anyway. He recalled Taako grasping his knee when he had begun to tremble, steadying his leg and his heart in the same movement and anchoring him to reality. He had smiled, then, a rare, genuine smile, so different from the practiced smirk which had become his resting expression. That smile had said: _It’s okay. We understand. It’s all over now, pumpkin, don’t you sweat it._ He recalled Merle on his left, clasping a hand on his shoulder firmly, another weighty anchor for him to reach out for. His remaining eye, the one spared from sacrifice, had seemed sad, wistful, but that was no surprise either. 

He recalled Carey, Killian and Noelle sat on their right, the last of the regulators, the memory of their lost team mates still fresh and stinging. Survivors guilt was a wicked thing, and whilst they all felt it in one way or another the three remaining Regulators felt it like a blow to the face. Noelle had no physical scars, of course, but the mental ones cut deep. He recalled little Angus McDonald, the world’s greatest detective, curled up in Taako’s lap as the wizard ran a hand through his thick curls. He held a carton of cranberry juice, too young to drink but far too old for the skin he was in, and just as battle-scarred as the rest of them. Magnus’ heart ached for Angus, ached for how his wonder filled expression had dulled to one far too world-weary for a boy of ten. Magnus had carried him back to his bunk that night after he had fallen asleep from the raging warmth of the fire, and remembered wishing he could have done more to protect him. It was too late now. 

He recalled Avi, half the man that he once was after the death of Johann, flask appearing at his lips far more frequently than it used to, far more frequently than was healthy. He had demanded that Johann’s memory not be destroyed, that it be immortalised forever, and yet sometimes Magnus wondered if it would be better if Avi would just move on. Lucretia and Davenport had sat at the on the other side of the fire, heads bowed together in fervent discussion. They still had a great deal of work to do, of memories to recall and recollect. Davenport’s consciousness had been absent for far too long, and it would take years for him to recover what he had once lost. The director had promised to assist him as much as possible, of course. She owed him that much, she had said. 

Barry Bluejeans had opted not to attend.

There was no question as to where they’d all go. The moon base had been their home, temporarily, but they’d all been very aware that someday their work would be done, and that they’d have to leave. Carey, Killian and Noelle were going travelling for a year, they had divulged over warm mugs of cider (Noelle, of course, didn’t drink hers, but it was always nice to feel included) before settling down somewhere green and rustic. They hadn’t decided where yet, but no one was particularly worried – their retirement packages were enough that none of them would ever have to worry about permanence ever again, unless they wanted to. Saving the world was quite a hefty feat, apparently. They promised to write, of course, and to visit regularly between adventures. Magnus often wondered how on earth the three girls could want to go straight back to adventuring after staring death straight in the face almost as many times as he had, but he supposed that they all had their own ways of coping. And besides, he could hardly imagine any of them slotting into a domestic scenario anytime soon.

Avi was going to live with relatives in Goldcliffe, apparently, being the only member of their gang of survivors still on relatively close terms with his family. Magnus was glad of that. If anyone deserved to have a family after all of this it was Avi, and besides, maybe having loved ones around would help bring his smile back. Lucretia had a retirement cottage already lined up, one with a library big enough to house each and every record she’d ever scribbled down. Davenport was to live alongside her, of course. They’d been together just the two of them for so long that it would seem simply alien for the two to be apart.

And then there was the matter of the remaining four, of Taako and Merle and Angus and himself. Magnus recalled the tense few days over which the decision was made, recalled the sulking and arguing and slammed doors and passive aggressive post-it notes. It had seemed, over that week, that the only one unaware of the fact that Taako couldn’t be left alone for longer than a few days had been Taako himself. He was going to buy a vast mansion all to himself, he had claimed, with his pension packet, a mansion with one thousand rooms and plenty of closet space and a pool the size of the quad. It had only taken one nightmare fuelled night for Magnus to finally convince him that he shouldn’t be alone. He had stayed up late that night, training in the arena with Carey for old times’ sake, and had been sleepily making his way towards his room in their shared quarters when he heard a faint whimper coming from his left, from behind Taako’s bedroom door. He had hesitated a moment, unsure as to whether Taako would appreciate him invading his privacy. The wizard, he knew, was much like a cat in many ways. Elusive, secretive, and occasionally hostile. It had only taken a second whimper, however, this one far more fear-struck than the first, to convince Magnus to rush in.

Taako had been curled up on his side on the bed, duvet flung to the floor in desperation. The room had been dimly illuminated by dozens of little jars containing tiny flickering flames, each a different colour. None of them really liked sleeping in the dark anymore. His arms had been curled above his head, useless protection against the phantom blows that rained upon him in his mind. Magnus didn’t quite know what to do. Did he wake him? Were there unspoken rules about that? What if he just made it worse? Eventually he settled on clasping a warm hand on his trembling shoulder and giving it a gentle shake, triggering a sharp gasp from the elven wizard before his eyes snapped open, his elbow narrowly missing Magnus’ stomach as he sat bolt upright. Taako’s expression softened slightly when he realised who had woken him, but he did not relax, hugging his knees tightly and staring straight ahead at the wall as he tried to level his breathing. Magnus had perched tentatively next to him, rubbing small, gentle circles into his back in an attempt to soothe. He let a few moments pass in uneasy silence before speaking, ensuring Taako’s breathing had reached levels close to normal.

“This happen often?”

“Huh?” Taako asked, eyed still fixated on a spot on the far wall.

“The nightmares. Do you get them often?” He persisted.

Taako snorted.

“Nah. Elves don’t need sleep, remember? It doesn’t happen a lot.”

“But you were just…”

“I said we don’t need sleep. Doesn’t mean we can’t. I do like to, sometimes. Guess I won’t be tryin’ that out again anytime soon.”

An uneasy silence had settled over the room again, and Taako had straightened out his legs, fingers fiddling in his lap. Mangus stopped rubbing his back and cupped Taako’s hands in his, moving onto the bed and crossing his legs so he was looking him right in the eye.

“I get them too you know.”

Taako’s eyes widened a little, and he redirected his gaze to their joined hands.

“Don’t we all?” He muttered.

“About Refuge, and Wonderland. And…watching you cling onto life by a thread. The astral plane.” Magnus persisted, rubbing his thumb over the back of Taako’s hand. “I get ‘em about other things too, older things. I ever tell you about Raven’s Roost?”

Taako nodded.

“That, too. I even get ‘em about things that never happened, things that never will. There’s one about Angus...God, Taako, I wouldn’t wish that one on anyone.”

Taako took a deep breath and frowned, meeting Magnus’ eyes again before glancing away.

“Mine are the same.” He mumbled, so quietly Magnus had to strain to hear him, despite the still silence of the room. “Pretty much, only none of the stuff about Raven’s Roost, obviously. I get other ones though, other…older things. I guess being dragged to hell and back tends to drag all the other shit back along with it, huh?” He attempted a laugh, but there was no heart to it. Magnus sighed.

“I don’t know why you insist on fighting all this on your own.”

Taako looked affronted, and tugged his hands away sharply.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, eyes glittering dangerously. Magnus rolled his eyes, well accustomed by now to Taako’s sensitive ego.

“You know exactly what I mean. The mansion, Taako? All by yourself?” Taako frowned, his gaze icy. “I understand you needing space, but you can’t isolate yourself like that! It’s destructive, it’s pointless, and it’s stupid!”

The icy gaze had turned fiery in an instant, and Magnus recalled watching Taako clench and unclench his fists against the bare mattress with sudden anxious trepidation.

“Well, what else am I gonna do?” He whispered sharply, conscious of Angus fast asleep in the room next door. “I don’t have any family left, remember? Where would I go? I don’t have a trade, a profession, unlike you and Merle. The only thing I’m good for is cooking, and I can’t even do that anymore without hyperventilating. I’m fucking _useless_ in the real world, Mags, and so I ask of you: _what else do you expect me to do?”_

Magnus fell silent for a moment and fiddled with the hem of his sweatpants as Taako breathed heavily, attempting to control his anger the best he could.

“I was gunna ask you to move in with me.” He mumbled, his barely audible tone matching the one Taako had employed previously. Taako’s breathing stilled, all the tension draining from his body in a single moment.

“You were?” He asked, earnest green eyes meeting Magnus’ anxious brown ones. Magnus licked his lips nervously and mumbled a response.

“I mean, I don’t really wanna be alone either. I was gonna ask Merle and Angus too, you know? I know they’ve got their own shit going on, but I thought…I thought it might be nice if we stuck together. Even if it’s just for a little while.”

Taako’s expression softened, and he placed a hand on Magnus’ forearm.

“Maggie” He smiled. “You are such a fucking idiot.”

“What?” Magnus started, and pulled his arm away and frowning, a hurt expression manifesting on his face.

“Why didn’t you just ask me?” Taako laughed, grabbing both arms in slender hands and anchoring him down. “Christ, I thought you couldn’t wait to get rid of me!”

“But all that talk about finding your own place…” Magnus persisted, although he felt his heart growing lighter by the minute. Taako laughed and tugged at him until they were both lying face to face on the bed.

“That’s only because I thought you all had your shit sorted! I panicked, Maggie. That’s new for me, I know, but I just panicked! I needed a plan, I guess.”

Magnus smiled and flung a strong arm across Taako’s waist, all previous anxieties banished from his mind.

“So we’re doing this, then?” He asked. Taako smiled and kissed his nose softly.

“You betcha, tough guy.”

And that had been that. They had spoken to Angus about it the next day, seeking him out in the deepest corner of the mostly disused library. The world’s greatest boy detective had gotten quite tearful at the proposal, and had attempted to wipe his eyes on his sleeve before being swept up into the world’s greatest bear hug, courtesy of Magnus. Taako had teased him, but held his hand firmly and ruffled his hair before instructing him to hop along and write a letter to his Grandpa to fill him in. Merle had taken a little more convincing, but then that was to be expected. Their cleric was fiercely independent and maintained for days that he could take good care of himself, thank you very much, but Taako had found the crack in his façade and had eventually won him over by promising him ownership of their garden. Besides, he had chuckled. How could the three of them ever be expected to make honest lives for themselves without the influence of Merle’s zone of truth?

Magnus remembered it all, from his seat in a worn red armchair in the cheerful little cottage that the four of them now called a home, and he observed his family with a smile. Taako had started cooking again, about two weeks after leaving the Bureau and realising that there was no canteen to rely on anymore. Never anything too complicated, nothing that involved transmutation or multiple cloves of garlic, but cooking all the same, good, hearty food that warmed them all to their very cores. He sang, too, which had come as a surprise to them all, sweet, warbling ditties as he moved gracefully about the place. Angus still went out on cases, but never for more than a few days, and never without his stone of farspeech. More often than not he could be found by the fire, poring over the endless novels that Lucretia sent him each week and nibbling on homemade macarons. He would often fall asleep there, curled up on the soft woollen rug, book still clutched and glasses askew, and the three would alternate carrying him to bed. The garden flourished under Merle’s supervision, who could frequently be found covered in dirt and hollering about their latest harvest. He grew fruit and vegetables seasonally, a fact that Taako was silently grateful for, and nurtured them as though they were his own children. Taako often complained that it was creepy, watching Merle whisper sweet lullabies to zucchini for hours upon end, but the end result was genuinely tastier than anything any of them had tasted before. Mavis and Mookie did visit, and visited frequently, bringing even more life to their cluttered home.

Magnus’ favourite moments, however, were moments just like this one. They had dragged all the mattresses in the house into the living room and had laid them out onto the floor, covering them with scatterings of blankets and pillows before curling up together as the fire blazed merrily, charmed to cast a faint pink glow by their resident wizard. Magnus, being the biggest, had laid out in the centre, and the others had taken it upon themselves to pile on top, Merle to his left and Taako to his right, with Angus flopped across his chest.

They all still got nightmares. They all still had scars, but oh, Magnus thought to himself, ruffling Angus’ hair with a contented sigh. Oh, wasn’t it so much easier to handle when you surrounded yourself with the people that you loved?


End file.
